


A Different Sort of Vine

by FlatlinesU



Category: Thomas Sanders, Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Gen, Light Bondage, Porn Without Plot, Sex Pollen, Solo, Tentacle Sex, dubcon, sort of??
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-17
Updated: 2017-04-17
Packaged: 2018-10-20 02:59:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,485
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10653516
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FlatlinesU/pseuds/FlatlinesU
Summary: Prince Roman goes on a quest to hunt down the beast terrorizing his kingdom. Except he doesn't.





	A Different Sort of Vine

**Author's Note:**

> Shameless porn shameless porn hell yeah
> 
> This is the first NSFW writing that I've posted online so like. be gentle with me. or don't, really I'm fine either way

The dense foliage in his path gives away with a slash of his sword and Roman takes a moment to wipe away the sweat rolling down his forehead. Sunlight beats down on him enough that he can almost feel its weight on his back. He enjoys the outdoors as much as the next prince, but he has been traversing the heavily wooded area on the outskirts of his kingdom for most of the afternoon. As handsome and strapping as he is, Roman is still a person. And the sun is draining the energy out of him like a siphon.

  
Roman sighs and eases himself on a flat boulder under a tree. The beast that had terrorized the nearby towns has yet to show itself, and he was in desperate need of a break. He fumbles with the top few buttons of his shirt and breathes out in relief as the cool breeze dances over his sweaty, feverish skin.

  
He unties the water skin from his belt and gulps down half of it before pouring the rest of it over his head. Roman shivers as the cool water runs down his spine and seeps into the ground below him. It’s a horrible waste of water and he’s probably going to regret that later, but it’s too much of a relief for him to care.

  
Under the shade of the tree, Roman stretches out and sighs. He feels his eyelids getting heavier with fatigue and he half-heartedly fights it away. He knows that he would have to get going soon before the beast went out to terrorize another town, but he lets himself relax for just a little while…

  
A rustle comes from the bushes and Roman bolts up with a start, grabbing the longsword at his side. His eyes dart around looking for any signs of movement in the bushes, for the telltale flash of golden eyes that could signify the presence of a beast. Unfortunately, he’s looking at the wrong place.

  
The vine that wraps around his ankle jerks up and lifts him into the air, nearly making him dropping his weapon in the process. Panic surges through him as more, thicker vines advance towards him and he slashes blindly in front of him, relishing the way it cut though them with ease. There’s a hiss from behind him and he lifts his sword for another strike, only for a green tendril to wrap around the blade and effortlessly snap it in half. He drops the useless handle and the vines take the opportunity to grab at his wrists.

  
“Rrrgh. _Unhand me!_ ” Roman flails against the tentacle-like vines snaking its way up his pant legs, oddly slimy as they wind around his legs and squeeze at his thighs. The fluid seeps into the fabric and clings to the little bit of untouched flesh, like he had been wading fully clothed though a watery bog.

  
As he kept struggling and as the tendrils pins his arms together behind him, he screams both out of frustration and in hopes that he will catch the attention of a passerby. But who would be walking in the middle of a dense forest in the first place? His yelling only succeeds in irritating the beast as it shoves another slick length into his mouth and goes a little deeper, effectively silencing him.

  
From where his bare skin meets plant-like appendages and the mysterious ooze drips down his throat, Roman could feel an odd prickling dancing across his flesh and suddenly he’s warm. So much warmer than when he was baking in the midday sun. Like molten iron was suddenly poured into his veins and he whines around the tendril in his mouth. The ooze that was like sap suddenly tasted like sweet honey and the royal’s cheeks hollowed out as he sucked on the appendage, swallowing as much of the thick fluid that didn’t spill out past his lips.

  
As the beast’s elixir ran though his system, Roman could feel a familiar warmth pooling in his core and his mind goes hazy with the unbearable heat. His hips stutter as the ends of the tentacles slither across his inner thighs and circle the delicate flesh there, a cool relief against his feverish body while simultaneously making him hotter than before when they refuse to go any further.

  
The tendril in his mouth slides out fluidly and Roman coughs as a mixture of his spit and the beast’s secretion dribbles down his chin. He licks his lips and breaks the long string of saliva connecting his mouth to the tentacle’s tapered end. Through the fog of lust and unsaid pleads in his mind, he finds himself missing it. Now it’s not enough and he feels too _empty_.

  
The tentacle, still slick with the royal’s saliva, presses wetly between his legs and he rasps out a cry. Roman grinds his hips against the appendage and pants as the friction flares the heat in his core. It stays mostly immobile and it lets him do all the work until Roman could feel himself tiring out with no sign of relief anywhere in sight.

  
"Oh, God, pl-please,“ He groans, falling limp and malleable in the beast’s slick grip. Roman isn’t sure if it could even understand his half-formed pleading, but his attention is diverted towards nothing but the need to come and such pleasantries slips his mind completely, ” _Please_ , j-just—I need-!“

  
Then mercifully, the tentacle latches onto the soaked fabric of his pants and rips them clean off his body, pulling a gasp from the prince as the cool air breathes over his feverish skin. He doesn’t have another moment of reprieve as it slinks around his cock and a strangled cry escapes him, his back arching almost violently. Roman groans and rocks his hips in search for just a little more friction, but the tentacles around his thighs suddenly tighten and he can’t move any further.

  
Those same tendrils shift and maneuver him so that he had his ass in the air and his legs spread-eagled. Another one presses against his entrance and he pushes back greedily, but the length of it slides languidly between his cheeks and coats his lower half with more of the cold, slick fluid.

  
Roman could feel the heat in his core simmering as he’s pulled further from the edge and he shivers at the loss, tears of frustration brimming in his eyes as the tentacles holding him captive barely let him move. He’s fatigued enough that he could barely talk, only letting out the occasional whine whenever the tendril around his dick brushes against the head or when the one between his ass presses a little harder.

  
The tentacle pulls away from his entrance and a spark of desperation gives him enough energy to look over his shoulder, eyes wide with confusion and distress. Without warning, it pushes inside him and he almost sobs in relief. His hands scrabble against the slippery surface of the tentacles around his arms as it pulls out to the tip and rams back in again and again, every slick slide against his prostate sending a loud moan bubbling out from his lips. The tendril is almost too thick and its pace too constant and clinical, and most frustratingly too slow. He’s on the edge again, and all he needs is a little push–

  
"Ah, please, f-faster. Fffuck- _faster, please_ ,” The pleads drip out of him as the heat coils tighter and tighter in his abdomen. Screams of ecstasy mingle with his words as a change in angle sends the tendril ramming into that spot and the one around his cock abruptly tugs on his neglected length and his vision whites out, his entire body going rigid as his orgasm rips through him and the tendrils coaxing him though the waves of his climax.

  
They keep moving until the haze fades from Roman’s mind and he’s whining from oversensitivity before pulling out and away from him. The royal blinks tiredly, thoroughly used, and he barely stays conscious long enough to feel the beast set him down on the ground below.

  
—

  
Roman wakes up on his bed and gasps as he’s pulled from daydream mode, his clothes sticking to his body with sweat and come. He grimaces at the feeling and makes a mental note to not wear so much next time as he stood to get changed and cleaned up.

  
His legs still shook from the after effects of a particularly vivid and thorough fantasy, but thankfully none of the soreness followed over into the real world. It definitely makes exploring those parts of himself a lot easier. If it weren’t for that, he would have never thought he had a thing for _tentacles_ , of all things.

  
As Roman strips and eases himself into the warm bath, the gears in his mind turn again, thinking about what he could do next.


End file.
